


Elfroot for your Troubles

by BDBriggs



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BDBriggs/pseuds/BDBriggs
Summary: Valthoron had never lived amongst humans or dwarves or even city elves. Suddenly thrust into the midst of strange peoples, he found himself noticing many odd things that his new companions hardly batted an eye at. Having dinner provided for him without expecting him to hunt was the first thing that threw him for a loop. The food was different, too, consisting of more meat and bread than he was used to. The negative views of mages also startled him—his keeper and the keeper’s first were technically apostates, so he’d never seen mages in a negative light.What he didn’t realize initially was that his new companions noticed similar oddities in him.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Elfroot for your Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> This is OLD holy shit, but I decided to post it anyways. It's not my current style of writing at all (and for an old fandom!) but it was sitting gathering dust so I thought eh, why not post it.
> 
> I might write more (and higher quality stuff) for this fandom, with this inquisitor, if I feel particularly motivated ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Valthoron had never lived amongst humans or dwarves or even city elves. Suddenly thrust into the midst of strange peoples, he found himself noticing many odd things that his new companions hardly batted an eye at. Having dinner provided for him without expecting him to hunt was the first thing that threw him for a loop. The food was different, too, consisting of more meat and bread than he was used to. The negative views of mages also startled him—his keeper and the keeper’s first were technically apostates, so he’d never seen mages in a negative light.

What he didn’t realize initially was that his new companions noticed similar oddities in _him_.

“Must you?” Cassandra asked, voice flat, as he knelt to cut the leaves off yet another stalk of elfroot.

Val shrugged. “Could be useful,” he said without moving from his task.

“You said that about the last ten plants we’ve come across,” Varric pointed out.

Val frowned and turned his companions, finally. “Adan is low on elfroot,” he explained. “If we’re to stay supplied with potions, we’ll need more elfroot.”

“You have gathered every elfroot plant we’ve passed since I met you,” Cassandra said.

Solas stepped forward to intervene. “The healers _do_ need elfroot,” he said. “It will be good to have our supplies bolstered back in Haven.”

Cassandra glared daggers at the apostate, but pursed her lips and let the matter go. “Where should we head to next, then?” She asked.

Val pointed up the hill, grateful for the change in subject. “Solas spotted a rift up there, by the ruins of the tower. We should close it.”

The four headed up the hill and faced the rift. The horrible pins-and-needles feeling from the mark when it was near a rift would be difficult to get used to, Val thought. The mark wasn’t uncomfortable until they neared a rift, and only began to hurt when he interacted with or closed one. Still, the demons were slain without incident and the rift was closed without any further fuss. All four turned to the ruins of the tower.

“Calenhad’s Foothold,” Varric muttered, “wonder what’s inside.”

Val shrugged and led the way towards it. “It couldn’t hurt to look. Perhaps there will be something useful—” he broke off with a loud gasp. His eyes lit up at the sight before him.

Cassandra rushed to his side, concerned. “What? What is wrong?”

Varric sighed heavily behind them both. “Shit,” he said, drawing the word out, “that’s a _lot_ of elfroot.”

With an excited squeak, Val knelt to gather the leaves from the first two stalks. When he was finished, he rushed into the courtyard to gather the next. Indeed, the courtyard was scattered with elfroot. He darted from plant to plant, gathering the leaves from each and every one.

Varric slapped his knees and laughed so hard Val feared he might fall over. He heard a loud, heavy sigh from Cassandra and resolutely did _not_ look behind him until he had gathered every last plant. When he finally looked up, she held her forehead in one hand, shoulder slumped, looking utterly defeated. Varric was still bent over laughing and wiping tears from his eyes. Solas looked vaguely amused, as though trying not to smile or laugh and only partially succeeding.

“I hate you,” Cassandra stated flatly.

Varric cackled even harder. “Shit, I might have to call you Leafy from now on. What is it with you and elfroot?”

Val shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Could be useful,” he said.

Cassandra threw up her hands in exasperation and stormed out of the ruins the way they’d come in.

* * *

The next time they travelled to the Hinterlands, Val tried to be better about gathering elfroot. He’d completely filled his pockets last time, and thoroughly annoyed Cassandra in the process. Even Solas, who had initially sided with him, had been annoyed by the end of the trip. Val decided to limit himself to a certain number of each herb (twenty plants) and left the rest behind. It felt wrong to ignore the plants, and it filled him with anxiety to leave so many helpful supplies behind, but he would endure it for his teammates’ sanity.

Although Varric found the whole situation hilarious and teased him mercilessly when they passed an elfroot plant.

“Forget something, Leafy?”

“Leafy, I think you missed something.”

“Are you feeling alright? Solas, is he dying? He passed another elfroot.”

“He’s growing up…I’m so proud.”

Val rolled his eyes good naturedly. Of course he saw each and every plant, and long before anyone else, but he would not gather too many unless he needed more.

They were headed towards the river, where they thought the templar encampment might be, when he spotted a stalk of elfroot behind a tree. He’d grab just this one, he decided, it couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t far off the road at all. He darted towards it while Varric and Cassandra bickered, background noise that he’d begun to tune out. He’d just begun to cut the leaves off when he heard a noise to his right. His ear twitched—Cassandra and Varric were behind him still, and Solas was unlikely to make any noise unless speaking.

He looked up just in time to catch a templar shield bash to the face.

“Ungh!” Val cried out in pain and was flung onto his back. He lay there sprawled on the grass, staring up at the sky, waiting for the leaves of the trees to come back into focus. He could hear the startled cries of the others, and the metal clanging of weapons and shields clashing. He tried to get up, but the world spun violently and he flopped back down into the grass. Before long, Cassandra’s worried face swam into view.

“Herald?” She asked, “Are you alright?”

Val groaned in pain. “Face hurts,” he said. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “Everything’s spinning.” Someone rested a hand on his forehead. Solas, he realized, when a gentle pulse of magic flowed through him.

“We should get him back to camp,” Solas said quietly, “he will need medicine before he is able to fight again.”

A corner of Val’s lips quirked up of their own accord. “Elfroot,” he offered, holding up the leaves he’d gathered before the templar hit him.

It was silent for a long moment, long enough that Val nearly opened his eyes to look. Then Varric was laughing loudly, the sound changing as he bent over and presumably tried to muffle it. There was a fleshy sound that prompted Val to finally open his eyes—through the spinning, he could see that Cassandra had facepalmed and held her head in her hand. Solas’ expression was so flat that Val lost the battle to keep a smile off his face, and he cracked up a little. It hurt to smile with his face injured, but he managed a chuckle.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get hurt and worry you.”

Cassandra sighed heavily. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

* * *

The next night, after Val had been treated and then slept most of the pain away, he sat at the campfire with the others. Varric pressed a bowl of hot stew into his hands and patted his shoulder. Val swallowed a few bites before becoming aware of a set of eyes trained on him and looked up to catch Cassandra’s gaze.

Before he could ask, her what was wrong, she blurted, “What is it with you and elfroot?”

Val blinked slowly at her.

“It isn’t just elfroot,” Solas pointed out, “he gathers every herb we come across.”

“And every vein of ore,” Varric added, “and every box, chest, or coinpurse.”

Val felt his ears drooping in embarrassment. “I’ll stop,” he promised. He thought he’d been doing better already by limiting himself to twenty plants, but then he’d gone and grabbed one more, and look where it landed him. His face flushed in shame.

Varric huffed in frustration. “We’re not trying to scold you, Val. We’re trying to understand. Why’s it so important to grab each and every leaf?”

Val set his now-forgotten stew down beside him, appetite lost. He was silent for a moment, mulling over his words. “Every herb can be the difference between life and death for my clanmates,” he said at last. “If we pass up herbs, there is a chance that we might not find enough when we need them. Every berry, every fruit, every nut could save someone from starvation during the winter. I could never live with myself if I knowingly passed up an herb and someone died because we didn’t have enough.” The camp was silent save for the crackling of the fire.

“Well, shit,” Varric muttered. 

“I didn’t realize life could be so difficult for your people,” Cassandra said slowly. “I am sorry.”

Val shrugged and poked at his stew. “I didn’t intend to frustrate you all so much.”

“It’s entertaining to watch,” Varric shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve ever been anything other than amused.”

“I am frustrated easily,” Cassandra offered.

Varric turned to her and grinned. “Really, Seeker? You don’t say.”

“That was not an invitation to poke fun, Varric.” Cassandra snapped.

Varric chuckled. “Sounded like an invitation to me.”

Solas approached Val as the two began bickering full-swing. “And they’re off,” he said quietly. “I never thought I’d say it, but it is good to hear them argue again.”

Val frowned. “Are you alright, Solas?”

Solas smiled, obviously aware of how odd his statement seemed. “They have been entirely too quiet since your injury. Both blame themselves; they have been sullen and withdrawn.”

“I hadn’t realized,” Val said. He watched the two. Cassandra had leapt from her seat and was closing in on Varric, who backed away with his hands up in surrender. “It was my fault. I should have been more aware of my surroundings.”

“You should be more careful,” Solas agreed, “but both see themselves as your protectors. They will blame themselves regardless.” The apostate frowned. “Perhaps we should intervene.” Cassandra had fisted a hand in Varric’s tunic.

“It’s alright, Solas,” Val said intentionally loudly. “If Cassandra hits him, I still have enough elfroot to make a poultice.”

Cassandra glared at him, but she let go of Varric’s tunic as the dwarf bent over laughing again, so Val counted it as a win.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Apologies for its rough state; it's been literal years since I touched this one. <3


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